Just a Dream
by knightlyDarling
Summary: Hermione thought they were just dreams - but when they turn out to be a sign of something much more serious, she is forced to seek help from Severus Snape. Could it be the key to saving her from Voldemort and to making her dreams come true? SS/HG
1. Chapter 1

Hermoine read the last few words on the page and closed the dictionary-sized textbook on her desk. She stretched her arms up over her head, but knew it wasn't going to help much. She would be still be stiff tomorrow from staying hunched over her books for so long. She stood up to gather her notes and drowsily made her way over to her bed. She would kill for a back massage right now, but there was no hope of that happening. Most reasonable people would be asleep by now; the rest of the Gryffindor tower had turned in ages ago. I bet Snape's still awake, a small part of her mind said. Hermione nearly burst out laughing as she tried to imagine asking him for a back massage. Just the same, she climbed into bed and rolled onto her stomach, imagining his strong hands kneading her neck and back and dissolving all her stress. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

Morning came much too early. She blinked groggily at the sunlight streaming in through her window. This wasn't... it must have been a dream. She wished she could stay in bed in slip back into that dream... but she knew she ought to get up for breakfast and her morning class. She tried to get up, but fell back on her pillow. She was so tired... and felt worse than she usually did after a late night of studying. Her limbs ached and she felt physically exhausted. She mustered her strength and pried herself off her pillow, then practically fell off her bed. Trying to catch her balance, she stumbled onto a quill. Pain shot through her foot, and she sat down heavily to inspect the damage. She discovered only a shallow cut, but was shocked to see that the sole of her foot was almost entirely black. She looked at her other foot; it was black as well. What was going on?

"Bloody hell," Ron said, spotting Hermione as she came into the common room. "What happened to you?"

"Are you ok?" asked Harry, looking concerned.

Hermione fixed Ron with the best glare she could, considering her exhaustion. "Unlike some people, I have been preparing for NEWTs. I'm fine, Harry, I was just up late studying. Well, that, and... well, this might sound a bit odd..."

As the three walked down to breakfast, she explained about her feet and her tired muscles. The boys listened but looked thoroughly baffled. Just as they were about to enter the Great Hall, they ran into Luna Lovegood. "Quibbler?" she offered. Hermione took one and thanked her before Ron dragged her away from Luna and towards food. Harry hadn't followed. Hermione turned and saw him rooted to the spot with an unfocused gaze, as if he'd just had an epiphany. "Come on, mate," said Ron, "you can explain it and eat at the same time."

"Remember Slughorn's Christmas party?" said Harry as they sat down. Hermione and Ron both greeted this remark with rather pained faces. Hermione had spent most of that evening hiding from her date, and Ron hadn't been invited. "Oh, sorry..." Harry said, noting their expressions. "Well, I went with Luna-" Ron snorted "- and she was talking about how she sleepwalks. She said she wore shoes to bed... otherwise her feet would be filthy... do you think that's why...?"

"That would make sense..." Hermione was quite proud of Harry.

"We're not going to be seeing much of you today, are we?" asked Harry.

"And why is that?" asked Hermione.

"Well, you're going to the library, aren't you?" said Ron. "You have that library gleam in your eye."

"'Library gleam'?"

"Yeah, that's what gets me. You couldn't care less when Gryffindor has a quidditch match, but you get all excited about going to do work in the library. Honestly, you're mental."

"It's not work, it's research. And right now, it's research that will enable me to understand how to fix my sleepwalking, if that's what it is. Which could lead to an unconscious run-in with Snape or Filch in the middle of the night - the sleepwalking, I mean. So the prospect of being able to prevent that-"

"Ok, I see your point. Waking up and having he first thing you see be Snape..." Ron shuddered.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's notes:

Here's just a few things I forgot to say in the first chapter. All the characters are, sadly, J.K. Rowling's, not mine. Prompted by comment from Talking-Rock, here are a few clarifications about the story. It assumes that events have transpired according to the books with a few notable exceptions: a) Snape didn't kill Dumbledor b) the horcruxes don't exist c) the Golden Trio is continuing their education uninterrupted and are now in their seventh year at Hogwarts. Thanks to everyone who submitted a review or added this story to their alerts or favorites! This is my first fanfic, so it's really cool that people responded already:)

Hermione sighed. After spending hours canvassing the library, she was exhausted and still had nothing to show for her efforts. Apparently, the library did not house a single book that contained useful information about the symptoms, causes, and remedies for sleep-walking. Most of the texts she'd looked through didn't even mention sleep-walking, presumably dismissing it as a purely non-magical phenomenon. Even so, Hermione was surprised and frustrated to find there weren't any mentions of magical cures for sleep-walking, either. She glanced at her watch. It was well past midnight, and she ought to head back before she ended up falling asleep in the library. Doing so would mean being woken the next morning by a none-too-happy Madam Pince demanding to know what she had been doing in the library after it was closed to students, and would surely entail a large amount of points being deducted from Gryffindor.

She ought to head back, and yet... it felt like admitting defeat to leave the library without even a lead on what she'd come here for. The only place she hadn't looked yet was the Restricted Section, but she couldn't imagine why a book on sleep-walking would need to be restricted from students. Oh, what the heck, she thought to herself. I might as well have a look before I leave.

Thanks to several of the more research-intensive exploits of her Hogwarts career - the creation of the polyjuice potion came to mind - Hermione was fairly familiar with the layout of the Restricted Section. She knew that if there was going to be any useful literature, it would be in the middle. As she made her way deeper into the stacks of shelves, the silence became more pressing, the appearance and titles of the books more sinister. She spied a book with the word "dream" in the title and instinctively reached out to run her hand along the books' spines as she searched for more relevant tomes. She drew her hand back quickly when a book with a swirling symbols all over it began to drift off its shelf towards her, as if reaching back for her. It snapped back into place as she withdrew her hand, creating an unexpectedly loud noise that echoed throughout the library.

Now she'd done it. If there was anyone nearby, they would have heard that, and would come to investigate. The only people so devoted to catching misbehaving students that they'd be up this late were Filch and Snape, and, for different reasons, Hermione didn't fancy a run in with either of them. She quickly scanned the shelf in front of her, and seeing two books with both "sleep" and "dream" in their titles, hastily shoved them into her bag. Then she began to make her way out of the Restricted Section as quickly and quietly as she could.

She had made it out of the library and halfway back to the Gryffindor tower when she heard it. She froze. The noise came again, and then again, rhythmic. Foot steps. Getting louder, and thus closer. She looked around her, frantically searching for an alcove, or even a shadow to hide in, and finding none. She ran.

The black mass came out of nowhere and she hit it head on. Suddenly her face was engulfed in black and she was crashing towards the floor. Her knees hit cold, hard flagstone, but the rest of her body's fall was cushioned somewhat by the fact that she had landed on something that didn't seem to be the floor. The side of her head was pressed against rough fabric and was being shaken by some sort of pulsation from whatever she was lying on. She gingerly reached out to find something to brace herself against to prop herself up. Once she'd propped herself up, she sincerely wished she hadn't. She found herself looking down into the face a livid Professor Snape.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: Everything's J.K.R.'s , not mine.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to everyone who wrote reviews - they make my day that much better:) Also, it's crazy exciting how many people added this to their alerts or favorites - thanks!

She couldn't breathe. His face was inches away from hers and his ebony eyes burned into her like fire. She could feel his breath on her face and noticed, with come surprise, that it was rather irregular - ragged, even... Which was most probably because she had just knocked the wind out of him and was now sitting on his lungs. "Miss Granger, would you kindly _get off_ !" He bit out the last two words, and his speech brought reality crashing down on her. He was going to kill her in cold blood right then and there. Not only was she a Gryffindor student, _and_ one of Harry Potter's best friends, _and _out after curfew, but she had just barreled over Snape and was now practically straddling him. This was not going to end well.

Hermione blushed furiously, realizing that she had not only been straddling him, but probably staring at him as well. She began to prop herself up, pressing her hand against what was immediately under it. Which felt too soft to be a flagstone and gave a little. Which she realized was Snape's chest. She felt him move at her touch, no doubt recoiling from her hand. She found the cold stone of the floor and quickly pushed herself up and scrambled off of him. He stood and dusted his robes with his fingertips, then took a step towards her. "40 points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew," he drawled, "and 50 points for assaulting a teacher."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest - he couldn't actually believe she had intended to assault him - but he held up his hand and continued. "And do not think your dramatic entrance will distract me from the fact that you were no doubt coming from some illicit activity, for what other reason could you have for being in such a hurry to return without being discovered? Turn out your bag."

Hermione fumbled to find the clasp for her bag, praying that Snape did not have an encyclopedic knowledge of what books were in the Restricted Section. Finding the clasp, she gracelessly upended her back and let its contents tumble out pellmell. She hoped this method would make Snape less likely to look at any item in great detail, and none of the items - a quill, unused parchment, and several books - were intrinsically suspicious. Her hopes were dashed when Snape picked up the topmost book and began to inspect it. "Dark Arts and the Dreamer: Realizing Revenge While Your Enemies Sleep...? Miss Granger, unless you desire to use your enemies' dreams as a weapon with which to torture or kill them, I can think of no reasonable explanation as to why you would have this book in your possession."

Hermione opened her mouth to explain that this was all just a terrible misunderstanding, but Snape merely cut her off again. "70 points from Gryffindor for possession of dangerous contraband material. You will accompany me to the Headmaster's office immediately. I believe he has a right to know when his students begin to display deatheater tendencies." She was sure she could see him smirking, despite the poor light. Deatheater tendencies?! The nerve! Snape had actually been a deatheater - how could he accuse her of- Hermione had to consciously shut down her mental tirade, before it spilled into speech and cost her more house points.

At least she hadn't landed herself in detention, she thought, as she sighed and began to follow Snape through the dark, winding corridors. Suddenly, he stopped and whirled to face her, sending his robes billowing out around him. "As punishment for this and your other offenses, you will serve a week's detention with... Mr. Filch, as I find myself engaged in more important matters." He turned again and strode off, leaving her to follow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: Everything's J.K.R.'s, not mine.

**Author's Notes**: I love Albus. (Additionally, when Albus mentions Irma, he is referring to Madame Pince.) Also, thanks to everyone who wrote reviews, or added this to their alerts/favorites - you're awesome:)

Snape paused when they reached Dumbledor's office and muttered "asparagus" with obvious distaste. The gargoyle before him leapt aside to reveal the entrance and Snape disappeared within, already making his way up the spiral staircase inside. Hermione followed silently. Upon reaching the top, she spied Dumbledor, who appeared to have his head submerged in a in shallow bowl full of some silvery liquid. After a moment of confusion, she realized that Dumbledor was using a pensive.

Suddenly, the Headmaster's face emerged from the bowl with a splash and he turned to face his visitors. Despite having learned about the properties of pensives, Hermione was still a bit surprised to see that Dumbledor's beard and face were perfectly dry. "Severus, Hermione," he greeted them, "what a pleasant surprise. Would either of you care for a lemon drop?" As he spoke, he had been settling himself behind his desk, and now proffered a bowl full of bright yellow candies.

Hermione glanced at Snape, who looked as if he wanted to tell Dumbledor exactly what he could do with his lemon drops, but he merely replied, "No thank you," in a surprisingly even voice. It was curious to watch Snape trying to be polite to someone. Dumbledor seemed unaffected by the refusal and smiling, turned to offer the bowl to Hermione.

"Thank you sir, but I-" she had been about to refuse, but quickly reconsidered. "- should really only have one," she finished lamely. She would need the Headmaster on her side to make it out of this situation in one piece, and anything that she could do to get on his good side might help. Sure enough, Dumbledor beamed at her as she took a lemon drop, which she quickly pocketed. Hermione reasoned that it would be much better to explain herself before Snape launched into a detailed description of her offenses. "Sir, before we start, could I just-"

"But of course," the Headmaster interrupted. "It is quite reasonable for you to ask me about my curious choice for a password, as I am sure Harry has told you that I am much fonder of sweets than I am of vegetables. However, as you know, several, albeit weak, attempts were made on my life last year. I have therefore been tightening the security measures for the places I frequent, and choosing an unusual password has been part of that process. But enough about me- what brings you two to visit at this late hour?"

Severus seemed to have been boiling over with impatience during the Headmaster's explanation, so he was quick to speak now that he had the opportunity. "Earlier this evening-"

"My dear Severus," Dumbledor interrupted, " it can hardly be considered evening at the moment, for it is well into Saturday morning. But no matter, please continue."

Snape looked rather murderous as he continued, "earlier _last night_ I discovered Miss Granger to be, among other offenses, in possession of this forbidden and clearly dangerous book." As he finished, he placed the offending book on the Headmaster's desk; Dumbledor eyed the book warily and turned to Hermione, his expression now quite sober.

"Hermione," he began, "employing any of the procedures that this book details would be a grave offense indeed. Perhaps you could enlighten us as to why it was in your possession?"

Hermione thought it would probably just be best to tell the truth, hoping that Dumbledor would continue his habit of irreverence for rule-breaking when it involved Harry and his friends. She took a deep breath. "This book is from the Restricted Section of the library, sir," she began. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Snape smirking at her admission of guilt. "However, I intended only to use it for research." She knew how ridiculous this sounded, so she rushed on to the rest of her explanation. Dumbledor listened with interest, and Snape at least listened without interrupting.

"While I do not doubt the truth of your account," the Headmaster said, "it fails to explain why you would be conducting research in that particular area."

Hermione knew that his request for information was perfectly reasonable, but she was still loath to reply. She took another big breath. "I have reason to believe that I may be sleepwalking," she said. She blushed, incredibly self-conscious and embarrassed at having to make such an admission in front of Snape. "With my research, I had hoped to discover a way to remedy this problem."

Snape looked slightly less angry and slightly more intrigued. Dumbledor had steele his fingers and was resting his chin on them with a distant gaze. When his eyes focused again, they lit upon Snape with some surprise. He seemed to have forgotten that Snape was there. "Thank you for bringing this situation to my attention, Severus. There are several things that I will need to discuss with you tomorrow, so I would be greatly pleased if you could meet with me after your classes are over. However, as I would hate to prevent you from being well rested in preparation for teaching those classes, you may leave now."

Severus's expression reverted to entirely murderous, but he simply said, "of course," and rose to leave.

Once Snape was gone, Dumbledor addressed Hermione. "You may have noticed my interest in the book you mentioned, the one covered in symbols that moved. Do you know anything about this book?"

"No, sir," Hermione managed, embarrassed to have her ignorance on any subject exposed.

The Headmaster must have noticed her reaction, because his expression softened. "My dear girl, I could hardly expect you to. It is a tribute to the scope of your knowledge that I had to ask you before I explained. It may be of interest to you that Irma has been keeping tabs on this book for me, as it is quite a bit more magical than most of the other books in the library. This book has been dormant, so to speak, for most of my career at Hogwarts, as it only responds to witches or wizards who are experiencing a particular phenomena: dream-walking."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: You know the drill: all J.K.R.'s, not mine.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to everyone who wrote reviews/added this their alerts/favorites! Sorry about the Albus monologue, but there was a lot that needed to be explained. I promise there'll be more action in the next chapter.

Albus waited for his statement sink in before continuing. "Dream-walking usually is caused by prolonged stress in a witch or wizard of uncommonly great magical ability. When such a witch or wizard experiences stress over a long period of time without developing an outlet to successfully deal with it, they subconsciously use their magic to create an outlet. Their magic perceives the stress as a buildup of energy, so it creates a process by which the witch or wizard can use both physical and mental energy. The result is that the witch or wizard will begin sleep walking, which uses physical energy, but will also begin walking into the dreams of others, as this uses mental energy. You may have guessed that the reason that both of these events occur while one is asleep is that they are both subconscious actions, and one is most closely connected to his subconscious while dreaming.

"When a witch or wizard walks enters someone else's dream, they retain their free will, a property that could not be taken for granted were they in their own dream. Anything that happens in the dream they are visiting will affect their person, and the person of the dream's owner as if it had actually happened to them. For instance, when both the dream-walker and the owner of the dream they visited wake, they will retain any physical injuries incurred while dreaming. Dream-walking is a very rare phenomenon, which has unfortunately deprived the wizarding community from studying it in great detail. There are consequentially substantial gaps in our collective knowledge on the subject. We have, as of yet, no explanation for these properties of dream-walking and no way to alter them.

"You mentioned that your research objective was to remedy this situation. I am sure that it is now obvious to you that such a remedy is imperative not only for your own comfort, but for your safety. Moreover, Voldemort's connection with Harry has opened his eyes to the idea of manipulating people while they sleep. He is already skilled at invading the minds of his victims to delude or control them, and has recently been growing better at doing so at great distances. Were he to find out about your ability, I have no doubt that he would attempt to control you as you dream-walked in order to kill as many people as possible.

"For the time being, I will provide you with a sufficient quantity of dreamless sleep; by eliminating dreams, one prevents dream-walking. However, as I believe you know, dreamless sleep is an addictive substance, so it only presents a temporary solution. The only viable permanent solution currently known is to become proficient in occlumency so that one can occlude their mind, or namely, their subconscious, so to prevent their own magic from gaining access to it. Professor Snape is the by far the best occlumens I know, far more skilled than myself or any of his contemporaries. I will arrange for him to give you occlumency lessons. I trust he gave you detention?"

"Yes, a week's worth with Mr. Filch," she replied. Her head was spinning from all the new information about a phenomenon she'd never even heard of. That was happening to her. That was the reason she was going to be taught occlumency by Snape.

"Good, good. I will make sure Professor Snape decides to personally supervise your detentions, and that will provide the perfect cover for your occlumency lessons. I am sure that a week will be sufficient for you to master occlumency, so the time frame worked out nicely, as well."

"But sir - it took Harry-"

"Hermione, we both know that, at the time, Harry and Professor Snape harbored mutual hatred, which did but hinder Harry's progress. Morever, you are much more passionate about, and in general, adept at learning than Mr. Potter. Finally, the very fact that you are experiencing dream-walking is a sign that you have an impressively large reserve of raw magic, which should make the act of occluding easier for you. I believe you will have no problem learning occlumency in a week. On the off chance that you do, I do not think it would be surprising for Professor Snape to give you detention for some other cause, so we can use that explanation to lengthen your lessons.

"I must apologize for keeping you so late on school night, but I can assure you that consuming dreamless sleep will make you feel rested in the morning, even if you are only asleep for a few hours." He ducked behind his desk and Hermione heard the sound of a drawer opening and of several glass objects clinking together. The Headmaster reappeared holding a corked vial of ebony-colored liquid, which he handed to Hermione.

"Thank you sir," she said, taking the vial.

"I am sure you already know this, but it would weigh on my conscious if I did not remind you: make sure that you set the vial on a flat surface and lie down immediately after drinking it, because after consumption, you will have thirty seconds before you are fast asleep. Your first lesson will be tomorrow night at 9:00. You should come here first, and Professor Snape will take you to whatever location he deems most appropriate for your lessons."

Hermione nodded and stood, gathering her belongs in preparation to leave.

"One more thing, Hermione."

"Yes, sir?"

"You may leave the books from the Restricted Section here. I find that I need to pay a visit to Irma tomorrow, so I can return them for you. I trust you no longer need them."

"Thank you, sir, " Hermione said, relieved that she wouldn't have to sneak into the Restricted Section again. As Hermione dug in her bag to retrieve the books, the Headmaster spoke again.

"Do not worry; I am sure that your occlumency lessons will be a smashing success." Hermione looked up into Dumbledor's face to see his eyes twinkling like mad.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** All J.K.R.'s, not mine.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks to everyone who's been reading these! And a special thanks to everyone who's written reviews. Sorry it's been a while since the last update - my computer recently decided it hated me.

"And then he gave me a week's detention with Filch."

Ron's rather large forkfull of scrambled eggs was halfway to his mouth when Hermione said this; both hand and fork froze. "What?!" Ron asked incredulously.

"He said he was too busy to supervise it himself." Which wasn't quite what he said, but she reasoned the truth would only make Ron more worked up about the issue.

"Too busy?! Hermione, he probably clears his schedule to give kids detention. That's like what he lives and breathes for."

"Ronald!"

Harry jumped in, sensing the beginning of a full-blown argument and trying to head it off. "Okay, so Ron's probably exaggerating a bit - but Hermione, have you ever seen Snape pass up a chance to personally give a Gryffindor detention?"

"No," Hermione admitted.

"But with you, he did. Doesn't that seem a bit weird to you?"

"I guess."

"You guess?" cut in Ron, "Come on. I mean, right now," he glanced up at the staff table, "Snape looks like he wants to kill someone. And he's staring at - well, actually he's glaring at Dumbledore right now, but before, he was looking at you."

Hermione had made sure to sit facing away from the staff table for this very reason. "So?"

"So, when Snape's mad, he takes it out on students. By giving them detention and stuff. And then showing up at detention _himself_ so he can gloat while he makes them do awful things. Like cleaning. And he's mad at you, so why didn't he want to come to your detention?"

Harry could see that Hermione was about to say something, but he cut her off because he knew that she and Ron weren't going to let this go. "Okay, so that's weird. But, you know, Snape's weird, so it sort of fits. Only why do you 'spose he's mad at Dumbledore?"

Hermione realized what harry was trying to do and answered quickly before Ron could say anything. "I bet by now Dumbledore has told him that he has to teach me occlumency."

"Aw, Hermione, that's awful, Dumbledore making you spend more time with Snape than you have to," said Ron.

"Yeah, that's pretty rough," agreed Harry. "I mean, when I had to learn occlumency from Snape, it was terrible. You probably want to look up how to do it beforehand, 'cause he wasn't very good at the whole giving instructions part."

"Wait - how come you need to learn occlumency?" asked Ron.

Hermione explained all about dream-walking and how occlumency was the only way to stop it. Harry looked like he had kept up, but Ron was obviously still trying to wrap his head around what she had just said. Suddenly, he brightened. "So you were in someone else's dream last night?"

"No, last night Dumbledore gave me some dreamless sleep."

"Aw, too bad."

"Ron! Did you listen to anything I just said? Dream-walking is incredibly dangerous!"

"What about the night before that?" asked Harry.

Hermione had to stop and think about that. She had obviously been dream-walking, but who had been in her dream? Snape. That was why she hadn't thought it was unusual - she dreamt about Snape all the time. "I think it was Snape's dream," she said. Ron choked on his drink. Harry thumped him on the back and asked, so what happened?"

Hermione honestly couldn't remember. But the fact that the dream hadn't seemed unusual to her at the time gave her a vague idea of what must have happened. And there was no way she was telling Harry and Ron about it. "I don't really remember..."

"Do you reckon Snape knows you were in his dream?" asked Ron.

Oh dear God, thought Hermione. He better not know, or I'm going to die this evening. "I don't think so. I mean, he probably just thought that he was dreaming about me."

"Do you think Dumbledore told Snape you can dream-walk?"

"I'm sure he's going to tell him if he didn't already. There's no way Snape's going to teach me occlumency without a really good reason."

"Well, do you think you did anything real flashy or obvious when you came into his dream?"

"I really can't remember what happened in the dream at all - I don't know."

"It was only a day ago - I bet you still have the memory and just can't get at it. But I think a pensive might help."

"Harry, I don't have a pensive."

"Dumbledore does. I'm sure he'd let you use it if you said it'd help with your occlumency lessons. And knowing whether or not Snape's going to want kill you for walking in on his dream when you go to your lesson tonight, I figure that would be helpful."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: All J.K.R.'s, not mine.

**Author's notes**: Thanks for reading and reviewing!

"You even have time to go see Dumbledore, right?" added Ron. "Isn't today the one day you have a free period?"

Hermione did have a free period, right before Potions. The only class for seventh years that was offered during that timeslot was Divination, and Hermione had refused to even consider taking the subject. "Well, yes, but I'd planned to spend the time studying for NEWTS."

"But NEWTS aren't for a month!"

"Which means you've already spent two months studying for them, right?" said Harry.

Ron gaped at her.

"Plus you're Head Girl," Harry continued, "so no one would think it was weird that you were visiting Dumbledore. They'd just think you had Head Girl business."

"You've been studying for NEWTS for two months already?" asked Ron.

"Yes, Ron, I have. There's so much material to cover – I honestly don't know how you expect to learn everything in a month."

"You expect me to spend a whole month studying? When am I supposed to practice quidditch?"

"Ron, this is your future we're talking about. Don't you think that's a little more important than quidditch?"

"We're up against Slytherin for the cup this year. Do you think I want to lose to Slytherin in my last quidditch match at Hogwarts?"

"Look, Ron," said Harry, "I'm sure you have time to study _and_ practice quidditch, ok? And Hermione, it can't take that long to look at a dream – I bet you'll have time to study, too."

"Okay, fine. I'll ask Dumbledore if I can use the pensive." She really did want to know what had happened in the dream.

"I hadn't thought about it being our last match here," said Harry. "I'll have to make sure to schedule some extra practices."

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "And maybe at the next practice, we could try this new play I've been working on…" Hermione stopped listening.

Hermione's first few classes were uneventful. Most of the professors had already stopped teaching new material and begun reviewing for NEWTS. Hermione tried to tell herself that it was helpful to go over the material again in a different way, but she found that, for the first time in her life, she was bored in class. She already knew everything that they were going over in class; she had spent the last two months reviewing it herself. She found herself counting down the minutes until her free period.

At lunch, she found that Harry and Ron were still discussing quidditch tactics, so she used the opportunity to get a head start on her homework and then headed off to History of Magic early. It was her last class before her free period. Professor Binns was reviewing as well, but she forced herself to pay close attention anyway. They had studied recent history this year, and anything she could learn about the state of the wizarding world during Voldemort's life or about his previous reign of terror could be used to bring him down. Even so, Professor Binn's monotone vice was grating on her nerves, and she practically bolted out the door when class finished.

As she made her way to Dumbledore's office, she realized she had no idea what she was going to give as the reason she needed to use his pensive. He would probably still let her use it if she told him the truth, but that would necessitate admitting that she had been in Snape's dream, which Dumbledore might relay to Snape. She would have to think of something else.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she nearly walked straight into the gargoyle outside of Dumbledore's office. "Asparagus," she said, looking at the gargoyle pointedly. It obediently leapt aside, allowing her to reach the staircase behind it.

"Hermione, what can I do for you?" the Headmaster greeted her when she reached his office. "I am afraid I still only have lemon drops. You are, of course welcome to them, but if you come back tomorrow, I should have some toffee, as well."

"Thank you sir, but actually, I was wondering if I might use your pensive."

"Of course, my dear. But if I may ask, why do you find yourself in need of a pensive?"

"I can't remember anything I dreamt from the night I was dream-walking, and I thought-"

"How right you are, Hermione. With such little research on the subject, it would be a shame to be unable to learn anything from your experience with it simply because you cannot remember it. However," he cautioned, "the process of using a pensive to look at a memory becomes more complex when one has to locate the memory first. Are you familiar with what you must do?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, good. Even so, I think that I will remain here with you while you find your memory, in case anything goes awry. Afterwards, I will make my visit to Irma, so you can have some peace and quiet while you view your memory."

"Thank you, sir." Hermione made her way over to the pensive and murmured the correct spell, then closed her eyes and lowered her face into the silvery liquid. She had never used a pensive, and despite her knowledge of the magical properties that allowed a pensive to work, it felt horribly counterintuitive to submerge her head in a liquid for any length of time. She could no longer feel her feet on the floor of Dumbledore's office, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself sitting in an large, entirely white room that was rather blinding. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, she saw that the room was filled with shimmering spheres that were roughly the size of her fist.

She closed her eyes and focused on remembering what had happened immediately before she went to bed and immediately after she woke up two nights ago. She heard a noise, and half-opened one eye to see several of the spheres rolling towards her as if attracted by a magnetic force. When the noise stopped, she opened both her eyes. Six spheres lay at her feet. Now that they were closer, she could see images swirling around in each of them, changing the way wizard photographs did and then dissolving in an inky swirl of color, only to reform into a different image. She began to look at each of the spheres in turn; in the third one, an image of Snape caught her eye. She picked it up and, holding it tightly with both hands, closed her eyes. When she opened her eyes, all the other spheres were gone. She gently set the sphere she held down on the floor and withdrew her face from the pensive.

She turned to see Dumbledore beaming at her. "Well done, Hermione. This is precisely why I do not think you will have any trouble learning occlumency." He headed for the stairs and disappeared from her line of vision. She glanced down at the swirling liquid of the pensive, now tinged green ever so slightly, and plunged her face back into the pensive.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: All J.K.R.'s, not mine.

**Author's Notes**: Sorry that not much happened in the last chapter! I had originally intended to put the dream in the last chapter, but then it got so long… anyway, here it is now. (Also, in case you're wondering why no one notices the real Hermione when she's in her dream, it's because she's visiting her memory. The dream already happened, so it's as if she isn't there.) [DON"T READ UNLESS you already started reading and got confused: there are 3 Hermione's in the dream: 1) the real Hermione, who is visiting the dream using a pensive, referred to as Hermione 2) the real Hermione of the memory who dream-walked into Snape's dream, referred to as the dream-walking Hermione & 3) the Hermione who was already in Snape's dream, referred to the Hermione in Snape's dream.]

Hermione watched shapes coalesce from what looked like large swirls of ink coming down from overhead. Her surroundings looked like a post-apocalyptic wasteland in various shades of grey. She heard the babble of voices, but didn't see anyone. She turned around to see herself heading towards the noise and followed. Suddenly, a group of people came into view. Someone clad entirely in black was kneeling on the ground with his back to her. Behind him there was a crowd of people laughing and talking amongst themselves. One man with untamed short black hair looked strikingly similar to Harry, except for his eyes. He stood next to a woman with fiery red hair. He grabbed her hand and stepped out from the crowd, which hushed in anticipation. "Got what you deserved, didn't you, Snivellus?" There were sounds of agreement from the crowd. A boy with the same jet-black hair as the man ducked under the man and woman's arms.

"He sure did, Dad! You showed him!" It was Harry.

The man ruffled the dream-Harry's hair, then turned towards the woman. "See? You made the right choice." Dream-Harry had disappeared back into the crowd, but returned with Ron and another Hermione in tow. They came to stand beside the man and woman, then pointed at the man on the ground and began to laugh. Hermione had been so wrapped up in watching the scene that she had forgotten to keep tabs on where the true Hermione from her memory was. She quickly found her at the front of the crowd and went to stand beside her. From her new vantage point, he could see that the man on the ground was Snape. Her dream-self looked quite upset, and suddenly rushed towards Snape and knelt by his side. Which meant that Snape could see two Hermiones right now – the one that was originally part of his dream, still laughing at him, and the Hermione that had walked into his dream and was now right in front of him. The duplicity was particularly obvious because the Hermione from Snape's dream was now yelling at the dream-walking Hermione. "What are you doing?!" she screamed. "You hate him!" The dream-walking Hermione had been cupping Snape's face in her hand so that she could see his expression. Hermione looked, too, and could see his emotions change from agony to complete surprise. However, in response to the Hermione in Snape's dream, the dream-walking Hermione had let her hand drop. She turned to face the Hermione in Snape's dream. "What are _you_ doing?" she shot back. "I love him."

The dream-walking Hermione turned back to Snape and clasped his hand, trying to pull him up off the ground. He still looked like he was in shock, and did not seem aware of what she was trying to do. By her second try, though, his gaze had focused and she succeeded in getting him to his feet. She turned her back on the crowd and began to pull him away from all the people. But it seemed that the Hermione from Snape's dream wasn't finished yet. She was shouting at the dream-walking Hermione again. "You do realize that this is Snape we're talking about. Snape, the greasy git from the dungeons. You love Snape?"

"Yes," the dream-walking Hermione replied simply, "I do." She turned back to the man in question and started to lead him away from the crowd again. As Hermione followed them, she noticed that the further away they got from the other people, the greener and less sinister the landscape became. When they reached a place where the grass was lush and none of the landscape was gray, the dream-walking Hermione stopped and sat down on the ground, pulling Snape with her.

"Why?" he asked the dream-walking Hermione. She put a finger to his lips to silence him, then trailed her fingertips down his bottom lip to his chin. He caught her hand and pulled her closer to him, bringing her face within inches of his. She leaned forward almost imperceptibly, her lips parting in anticipation. And then he kissed her. He brought one hand up to twine in her hair and caressed the back of her neck with the other. Her hands went to his neck, then down his back, pulling his body flush against hers. He returned her advance in kind, freeing one hand to explore her back and bringing the other to her waist as he deepened the kiss. She brought her hands around to his shoulders and pushed gently, breaking their kiss briefly and sending him toppling backwards into the grass. She quickly followed, sitting on top of him and kissing him again as she ran her hands down his chest. He grabbed her waist and rolled to the side so that he was now pinning her to the ground, intertwining their legs in the process. She couldn't be certain because he quickly returned to kissing the Hermione from the memory, but Hermione thought she saw the briefest smirk pass over his face.

Suddenly, all of Hermione's surrounding began dissolving into swirls of color and the sounds she heard became indistinct and distorted. She felt a strong pull on her back, as if she were being sucked into a tornado. And then she found herself back in Dumbledore's office, her feet on a solid wood floor and her face no longer in the pensive.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: all J.K.R.'s, not mine.

**Author's Notes**: Sorry for the major hiatus! I went back to college and things have been crazy. But there's only a few chapters left, so I'll try to finish them soon.

So much for not doing anything "real flashy or obvious" while she was in Snape's dream, Hermione thought to herself. Let's see, by just showing up, I drew attention to myself because there was already a Hermione in my dream. Then I argued with "myself", and, in the process, declared my love for Snape. And then I kissed him. I think he might have noticed me.

Snape was anything but dumb. He had survived being a spy and double-agent for- Hermione didn't even know how long. If Dumbledore had mentioned anything about her condition, he would have put two and two together. What had the Headmaster told him? Had he mentioned the dream-walker-having-free-will aspect? Sweet Merlin, if he had, she was going to have a lot to answer for.

Dumbledore emerged from the staircase and walked into his office, interrupting her thought process. "I trust you were able to view your memory successfully?" he inquired, smiling.

"Yes, sir. Thank you for letting me use your pensive. It was a very informative experience."

"I am glad. However - and forgive me if I am mistaken – I was under the impression that you had class very soon."

Hermione immediately looked at her watch. She had exactly seven minutes to collect her books and supplies from Gryffindor tower and then make it down to the dungeons for Potions class.

"No, you're right, sir. I really should be going." She turned and began sprinting down the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time. She absolutely did not want to draw any attention to herself during Potions, and she knew Snape would be furious if she were late. She as out of breath by the time she reached the private quarters allotted to her as Head Girl, but quickly gathered her Potions textbook, some parchment, ink, and a quill and bolted out the door.

She nearly barreled over several frightened-looking first years as raced down the moving staircases to the dungeons. She could feel her hair whipping around her face and could see lots of students staring at her, but she couldn't slow down now. She was so close.

She finally reached the spiral staircase that led to the dungeons and took the stairs two at a time. She reached the bottom and hurried down the corridor to the Potions classroom – she could see the handle on the door, which was slightly ajar – and then she finally sank into a seat in the Potions classroom.

"What happened to you?" She looked to her left to see Ron looking at her oddly. She probably looked like she'd just been through a hurricane. Brilliant.

"I was almost," she panted, still not quite recovered, "late for Potions."

Ron rolled his eyes and Harry opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but quickly closed it when the door to the Potions classroom slammed shut and Professor Snape strode in, his robes billowing out behind him. He made his way to the front of the classroom, where he settled behind his desk and glared out at the students. He had a knack for making it seem like he was glaring at each student individually when he was really just looking at the class at large, and Hermione was keenly aware of his eyes boring into hers. On second thought, he probably was intentionally glaring straight at her right now- he was probably livid about the Headmaster cancelling her detention and forcing Snape to give her Occlumency lessons. Which she needed because she'd just spent most of last night snogging in his dream. Which he probably knew about. She shied away from his gaze, blushing furiously and praying no one noticed her reaction. She hadn't even considered how impossible it was going to be to act normal around Snape, knowing what had happened in his- their- dream.

Snape's sharp voice interrupted her thoughts. "Today you will all be attempting to brew an antidote for the lussuria corpo potion. Can anyone tell me what symptoms a successfully brewed antidote would alleviate?"

An intense sexual desire, directed at humans in general unless a target was specified by the addition of an organic sample of a particular person to the lussuria corpo potion. The interaction of the sample with the potion worked much in the way as such a sample did with a Polyjuice potion, creating- oh God. He knew. He must know. He was making this antidote the subject of the lesson today to see how she would react, to see if she would crack. She knew she couldn't look him straight in the face and answer that question without blushing. But if she didn't raise her hand to answer the question, he would know something was amiss. She always raised her hand for every question. But he never called on her. So it would be safe to raise her hand now, because he still wouldn't call on her. But her delay would still look strange – her hand usually shot up before a teacher had even finished posing a question to the class. But she could still raise her hand now, and that might compensate-

"No one? I understand the general Gryffindor mentality would lead you to believe that courage and gallantry alone will see you through your NEWTS, but I can assure you that the logic of this notion is flawed. Twenty points from Gryffindor for collectively coming to class unprepared. The function of the antidote as well as the instructions necessary to create it can be found on page 694 of your textbook."

Hermione winced. How many points had she lost her house in the past few days? She hurried over to collect her ingredients and returned to her seat, turning her back on Snape as she began to neatly mince the fluxweed. "Hermione, I didn't think I'd see the day when somebody asked a question and you didn't know the answer. This is going down in history," Ron told her pointedly.

"I did know the answer, _Ronald_," she snapped, "I just… have a lot on my mind lately."

"Oh, I guess you do, what with the dream walking and all…"

"Yeah, what happened?" Harry asked eagerly. "Did you find the dream?"

"Yes, Dumbledore was kind enough to let me use his pensive, and I was able to locate and view my dream," she told the boys, "but this is neither the time nor place to discuss it."

"But-"

"Ron, we're in _Potions_ class."

She watched comprehension dawn on the redhead. "Hermione," Harry began, "I don't think Snape's is going to think it's terribly unusual if Ron and I are talking about something that isn't Potions in his class. I don't think he'd give us a second glance, actually. He looks way too busy terrorizing Neville."

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "Besides, even if he finds out, he'll just yell at you and it'll be over. Whatever you did in the dream can't have been that bad. 'Cause you're you, and you had free will, right?"

Hermione blanched. Both boys were now looking at her with marked interest. "Ron," said Harry carefully, "if you thought that you were having a regular dream, and Snape showed up, do you think you would act like you do in his classroom?"

"Nah, if I thought it was a dream, I'd probably slug him or something. I've been wanting to do that for years. I-" He stopped abruptly and turned to Hermione, grinning. "Wait, did you…?"

"No! No, Ron, I didn't punch Snape. I just…"

"What? What's so bad that you don't want him to find out?"

"It doesn't… have anything to do with lussuria, does it?" Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowed like he was thinking hard.

Oh God. He knew too. He- doesn't even know what lussuria means. He just thinks it's weird that you didn't answer Snape's question and is trying to make sense of it.

"Harry, it may interest you to know that the lussuria corpo is an Italian phrase, preserved as the name of the potion in homage to the nationality of its creator, and that 'lussuria' translates as 'lust.'"

Ron was doubled over laughing. Harry looked slightly disappointed that his theory didn't seem to be panning out, but then smiled at Ron. "Okay, okay," Harry conceded. "So you were just a bit out of sorts when you came to class today. Because there's no way I could see anyone putting 'lust' and 'Snape' in the same sentence."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter is sadly, J.K.R.'s and not mine.

**Author's Notes**: Thanks for reading! Also, reviews are fantastic – thanks to everyone who's been posting them!

The rest of the class was a blur. She knew she had finished her antidote, because she remembered giving a vial of it to Snape at the end of class, taking great pains to ensure that her hand did not touch his as she handed it to him. She honestly couldn't remember anything else that had happened in Potions class after Snape had told her not to be late.

She made her way to the library, still a bit light-headed from her encounter with Snape. He had been so close to her, so intense… Because he was reminding her about her detention, she told herself firmly. An act no doubt intended to embarrass her in front of the whole class. She was going to study for her NEWTS now and was absolutely not going to think about Snape any more. Reaching the library, she headed straight towards a carrel in the back where she knew she would not be disturbed, pulled out her Transfiguration textbook, and began to review the theory behind transforming people into non-magical inanimate objects.

She had managed to get through two chapters of transfiguration and was working her way through a third when she heard two rather loud sets of footsteps coming towards her. She looked up to see Harry and Ron. "Come on, Hermione, it's almost dinner time," Ron told her impatiently. She gathered her materials and followed the two boys towards the Great Hall.

She was still thinking about the interaction between magical cores that occurred when one transformed a magical creature into a magical inanimate object when she sat down at the Gryffindor table. "Pass me the mashed potatoes, Hermione?" Ron asked. She found the dish and passed it to him, but nearly dropped it in the process. As soon as she had looked up at Ron, she had seen Professor Snape glaring at her from behind his head. She mentally berated herself for forgetting to sit facing away from him. This was going to be a long meal.

xXxXxXx

After dinner she returned to the library and continued to study transfiguration until it was time for her Occlumency lessons with Snape. She had actually been able to put him out of her mind while she studied, but as she began to pick up her materials, the realization that she was now soon going to be stuck in a room with him where she would be the sole object of his attention hit her with full force. She had nearly caved in Potions, just because he was there. Now he was going to be trying to get into her mind- She gasped. She had completely forgotten to read up on Occlumency so she would know what she was doing in the lesson tonight. Well, it was too late now; she would just have to wing it. Right.

She reached the Potions classroom just a few minutes before 9:00 and knocked softly. There was no reply. She knocked again, a bit more loudly this time. The door swung open under the pressure of her hand, revealing the dimly-lit interior of the potions class, but no Snape. She stepped into the classroom, looking around. She heard a voice and headed towards the place the sound had come from. The voice seemed to be coming from behind the door to the Potion Master's storeroom. She came a bit closer. The voice sounded like Dumbledore. Then she realized what it must look like for her to be standing right outside the storeroom door while Dumbledore and presumably talked. She backed away from the storeroom, sat down on a chair on the opposite side of the classroom. She didn't fancy having either of those men catch her eavesdropping.

Suddenly, the storeroom door burst open and Snape strode out, looking agitated. Dumbledore followed, looking sanguine as he always did. "Good evening, Hermione," Dumbledore greeted her. "I must apologize for keeping you from your lessons with Professor Snape. I wish you the best of luck with them, although I suspect that you are in no need of it." His eyes twinkled at her, which was very rarely a good omen, but he turned and departed without saying anything else.

Snape glared at the place where Dumbledore had been standing, then turned to glare at Hermione. "Dumbledore seems quite confident that you will be able to master Occlumency within the week," he commented. "I hope that his confidence is not misplaced, as I have many other holds on my time." Oh God. He was going to kill her when he figured out she had no idea what she was doing. Although it was difficult to imagine the situation progressing to something worse than him staring at her with that intensity. Snape crossed the room in a few quick strides, coming to stand about a foot away from her. Apparently, the situation could get worse.

"Miss Granger, do you see the pensive over there?" he asked her, gesturing to a counter along the side of the room. She nodded mutely. "I have stored some of my more personal memories inside it. You will not touch that pensive at any time during the duration of our lessons, unless you would like to be serving detentions from now until graduation."

"Yes, sir."

"Miss Granger, please stand and come over here," Snape said, motioning to the floor in front of him. Hermione obeyed, coming to stand a few feet away from him. He closed the distance between them as he continued to speak. "The only way to learn Occlumency is to practice occluding one's mind, an act which is accomplished by a combination of magical energy and sheer force of will. In these lessons, I will attempt to penetrate your mind, and you will attempt to resist me." Oh god. She could feel herself blushing at his words and prayed that he didn't notice in the dim light. Her heart was nearly pounding out of her chest from his proximity and intense stare. "Miss Granger, as I am sure you are aware, eye contact is necessary for the practice of Leglimancy." She looked up at him to find his wand inches away from her face. He locked eyes with her and then whispered, "Leglimens."

Hermione could no longer see the room. Images were flooding her mind, none of them staying longer than a few seconds. She was sitting on her living room floor in bright red pajamas with feet, opening Christmas presents. She was looking up at a monstrously ugly and very angry troll. She was holding her breath as she watched Harry battle a Hungarian Horntail in the Triwizard Tournament. She was pressed against the grass as Snape kissed her. Suddenly the image vanished and everything went black. She was aware of a pointed object jutting into her neck and something hard pressed against her back. Slowly, the room came back into focus. She blinked. She looked up to that Snape had driven her up against the wall and was pressing his wand against her neck. He looked like he was several notches past livid. "Miss Granger," he said in a dangerously soft voice, "would you care to explain why you are currently in possession of one of my memories?"

**Footnotes**: In case you cared, Snape's "In these lessons…" line is straight out of the Harry Potter movies because I couldn't resist. Also, in case it's confusing, Snape doesn't know that Hermione was in his dream. She was just being paranoid about that before.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: You know the drill: all J.K.R.'s, not mine.

**Author's Notes**: Again, sorry for the wait! My college doesn't seem to appreciate that scheduling midterms around this time of year interferes with the regularity with which I can post fanfiction… Also, thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing!

Hermione stared at Professor Snape blankly. Dumbledore… hadn't… told him? Then how did Snape think she had…? Oh. Oh shit. He must think that she had been snooping in his pensive while he was talking to Dumbledore. He was going to kill her. Except she hadn't actually been at his pensive. So she could just tell him that and – And then she would have to tell him about the dream-walking. And how she'd kissed him. So it might just be better to let him think she'd looked in his pensive. Except then he would hate her, and probably take away the few remaining points Gryffindor had and-

"You have thirty seconds to explain yourself before I employ Leglimancy to find an answer myself," Snape intoned, leaning down towards his, his dark eyes still burning with fury.

Right. He wanted an answer. And he was going to get even angrier, no matter what she said. So it was just damage control now – would it be worse to tell him the truth? Or to lie and say she'd looked in his pensive? Or say nothing- or, there had to be some excuse, some reasonable explanation as to why she would have his memory. She was getting nothing. She was practically hyperventilating. Deep breaths, she coached herself. Deep breaths were hard. The Gryffindor in her was not reacting well to having a wand pressed against her throat. Every other part of her was acutely aware of how close Snape was to her, the intensity with which his eyes were boring into her, and the fact that he was pinning her against a wall. And was now raising his wand.

"Wait!" She took a very deep breath, which didn't really help at all, and looked back up at Snape. "I have the memory because it's my memory too." Snape looked incredulous, and like he was about to interrupt, so she continued quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush. "And it's my memory because I dream-walked into your dream."

Snape looked completely shocked for a few seconds, and then something seemed to click in his mind, and his face return to its former intimidating expression. "I would have expected a better excuse from you, of all people. It may interest you to know that the phenomenon of dream-walking leaves a witch or wizard in possession of their free will. You cannot expect me to believe that, having retained your free will, you would have acted as the Hermione in the memory you are in possession of did. It is therefore impossible that you dream-walked into my dream."

Hermione could feel the Gryffindor in her bristling at his dismissal. But she was dealing with a professor here. She needed to remain completely rational, calm, and respectful. Or at least try to.

"I _was_ in that part of your dream. You can test me with Veritasyrum-"

"The use of which, as you well know, is forbidden on students."

That was it. As she was sure _he_ knew, the use of Veritasyrum on students was permitted if the student gave signed consent without coercion. She had had the courage and dignity to tell him the truth, and he had just thought she was giving him an excuse so she wouldn't wind up in detention. Giving him a bad excuse. As if she would incorporate topics she didn't fully understand into a definitive statement. And now, she was trying to dissolve the tension of the situation by offering a solution, and he was just being difficult. She was royally pissed. The Gryffindor in her was taking over, and that was never a good thing. But right now, she couldn't care less. She would show him that she was right and he was wrong. But how…? And then, suddenly, she knew exactly what she had to do. Bracing herself against the wall for support, she stood on her tiptoes. She reached up to cup Snape's face in her hand and place her other hand on his neck, pulling him towards her. And then she kissed him full on the lips.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: You know the drill: all J.K.R.'s, not mine.

**Author's Notes**: I am very sorry for the extremely long and untimely hiatus. The combination of finals, my work ethic (or rather, the occasional lack thereof), and not getting along well with my computer were not very helpful. I am also sorry for the spelling errors and some missing words in previous chapters and will try to work on that. In any case, here's then next chapter; I hope you enjoy it.

It took a few seconds and the fact that Snape's entire body seized up and froze under her touch for the gravity of what she had just done to sink in. Well _of course_ he would react like this, Hermione's mind was screaming. What the hell did she expect? What the hell was she _thinking_? He was actually going to kill her this time. On the offchance he didn't, she would never be able to face him again. She would never finish potions; she would have to drop out of Hogwarts before taking her NEWTs, leave the Wizarding community, and carry out a quiet and miserable existence as a dentist for the rest of her life-

The collision of her body with the wall behind it interrupted her thoughts of a dark future. Of course, she thought, Snape was over the initial shock and was getting her off him as best he could. Except that his hands were now pinning hers against said wall. And his body was pressed against hers. And his lips were still on hers, no longer stone still in shock but moving furiously, arduously against hers. Her last coherent thought before she gave in entirely to the sensations was that Gryffindor stupidity could be incredibly useful.

It was over as suddenly as it began. Hermione's arms fell to her sides, unprepared for the lack of pressure, and she opened her eyes, blinking in utter confusion. Snape's eyes were hard, but his mouth still showed evidence of his recent activity. Hermione bit her tongue, knowing any sign of mirth would not help the already volatile situation. "Miss Granger, explain yourself," Snape ordered icily.

_Explain herself_? He had just spent a good minute – well, at least thirty seconds – snogging her and he wanted _her_ to _explain herself_? "Sir?" she asked, not really caring how stupid she sounded. She didn't trust herself to say anything else without buying herself a month's detention.

"I do not know whether some dunderhead put you up to this or whether a peer with no concept of consequences slipped some contraband substance into your pumpkin juice at dinner. Because of the… sensitive nature of this issue, I will give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you are under the influence of a potion. I would therefore suggest you go see Madame Pomfrey immediately before you cause any more damage."

"Sir, I-"

"_Get out_ of my office!" Hermione had never seen Snape sound or look quite so murderous. She fled.

xXxXxXx

It wasn't late when Hermione returned to her room, but she immediately scrapped the idea of using any of the rest of the evening for studying. Attempting to make sense of the evening's events would give her more than enough to occupy her time. Snape had kissed her. Well, to be accurate, she had kissed Snape, and he had then pinned her against a wall and kissed her back. She sighed. This was going to be more difficult than she had anticipated. Perhaps it would be best if she started at the beginning.

An hour or so later, she had not only worked out as much as possible, given the limited information she had, but formulated a plan. She climbed into bed and let the memory of the kiss fill her mind.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill: all J.K.R.'s, not mine.

**Author's Notes:** Reviews make me smile. Enjoy!

Most people in Hermione's position would be dreading the double Potions with Slytherin she had that afternoon, but Hermione was not most people. She had woken early, a luxury afforded by going to bed at a reasonable time the night before, a rare occurrence for her. She had then spent the extra hours studying to compensate for the time she had lost the night before and to clear her head. But she made sure to save some extra time to prepare herself for the day. Normally, she didn't need much time to get ready; she was required to wear a school uniform for daytime classes and she didn't usually do anything special with her hair or even consider make-up. Except for the Yule Ball and brief periods when she'd taken an interest in some of her male classmates- namely Victor Krum and Ron – she hadn't had any reason to want to impress people with her appearance. Well, she'd wanted impress Snape for a while now, but she hadn't thought she had a shot in the dark at doing so. Not until yesterday.

She dug in her dresser for a ring and found a plain silver one bearing a lion's head with a red stone for the interior of its roaring mouth. Hermione set it gently on the top of her dresser, and pointing her wand at it, expertly transfigured it into a silver ring in the shape of a snake, it coils forming three gleaming bands and its head and tail angled outwards. She slid it onto her finger and charmed it to slither around her finger every once in a while. Was that overkill? she mused. She smiled, realizing that it probably was, but that she didn't care. Hermione applied just enough makeup- mascara, a silvery eyeshadow, and a neutral lipgloss – to make her eyes pop and lips noticeable without attracting too much attention to the fact that she was wearing makeup. She eyed the bottle of muggle perfume atop her dresser. She had only really gotten it because the bottle was so pretty – a swirling glass body covered in red roses. Which was rather misleading, actually, since it was vanilla-scented. What the hell, Hermione thought. She might as well go all-out. She dabbed a bit of the perfume on the inside of both of her wrists. She stood in front of her mirror to admire her handiwork before pointing her wand at herself and casting a particular glamour that disguised her appearance from all but one specific person. In much the same way as a patronus was conjured using images of funny or happy things, the spell directed the glamour at everyone besides the person one was thinking of while casting the glamour. To everyone besides the certain some she had been thinking of, excluding herself, she would appear to be wearing no makeup or perfume, and to be wearing the ring as it had been before she transfigured it.

Hermione picked up the bag containing her school materials and strode down to breakfast purposefully. Finding the Gryffindor table, she saw that Harry and Ron were already there; Ron shoveling food into his mouth as if it might vanish if he didn't eat it quickly enough, and Harry eating at a more normal pace. She beamed at them as she began to sit down facing the teachers' table. "Hermione!" Ron hissed, luckily in a brief break between forkfuls of scrambled eggs. "You sure you want to sit there?" He cocked his head towards Snape meaningfully, who was glaring at Hermione as if he intended to bore a hole through her with his eyes.

"Come on, Ron. Don't you think it would look a little silly if we all sat next to each other in a row? Besides, he does this all the time – I'm used to it. You may not have noticed, but it seems like he doesn't like us very much."

"Right, but, blimey! I didn't think it was possible, but he looks angrier than yesterday- what'd you do to him in those lessons to get him so mad?"

Hermione blanched at Ron's wording before she realized he didn't mean anything by phrasing his question that way. She regained her composure in time to realize she should be angry that Ron assumed she had been the one at fault in the situation.

"That bad, huh?" asked Harry. "At least he couldn't yell at you for not knowing what you were doing, 'cause you went and researched that before, right?"

Hermione was pretty sure that her guilty expression betrayed her before she spoke. "Actually, I forgot to do that. I just had so much going on with trying to see my dream and studying for NEWTs… When I got there, he gave me practically no instruction, so of course I wasn't successful on the first try – and Dumbledore keeps making all these exaggerated claims that I'll have no problem learning it and master it within the week, so I'm sure he was angry that I seemed so incompetent in reality-"

"Geez, that does sound kind of rough," said Ron sympathetically. "But Hermione, don't worry about it. Snape thinks everyone is incompetent."

Harry smiled at this last remark, but then assumed a more serious expression as he turned to Hermione. "I know you'll get it, Hermione. I mean, I did, and you're way better at learning new magic than I am. But it's cool if you don't want to talk about it right now. I remember it was kind of awful for me."

Hermione turned to him, hoping he could see the thank-you in her eyes. "You know what I do want to talk about?" she asked the boys. "I feel bad that I've lost so many house points lately, and I've decided to make it up to you two by making a concerted effort to properly appreciate quidditch. Plus, winning more matches is the best way to make sure Gryffindor doesn't lose the House Cup to Slytherin because of the points I lost, right? What are our chances looking like for the last few matches of the year?"

Ron grinned ear to ear before launching into a detailed description of the strengths and weaknesses of each house's quidditch team and the strategies the Gryffindor team had been working on to use all of this information to its advantage, a narrative occasionally augmented by comments from Harry. Hermione found that, for the remainder of breakfast, all she had to do was nod or offer agreement in the brief pauses in Ron's pseudo-monologue, allowing her to spend the majority of said time smiling and staring directly over Ron's shoulder at Snape.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill: all J.K.R.'s, not mine.

**Author's Notes:** Reviews are loved – thanks to those who have been writing them and/or adding this story to their alerts or favorites. WARNING: contains hints of a budding Draco/Harry relationship. (This is not going to be a major plot line – I just couldn't resist because they're an adorable pairing. Sorry if you're a Harry/Ginny shipper!)

The rest of the morning and the beginning of the afternoon were uneventful; during classes, professors continued to review NEWTs material, and at lunch, Ron and Harry continued to educate Hermione about quidditch without any prompting. And then it was time for double Potions.

Hermione led the boys, who were engrossed in a debate over whether having poor beaters could really ruin an entire team, straight to the dungeon; they were among the first students to arrive in the Potions classroom. Only when Hermione began walking towards several seats at the front of the classroom did Ron and Harry pause in their discussion of quidditch long enough to take note of their surroundings. "Hermione, are you mental?" asked Ron. "What do you want to go and sit up front for?"

"You two are graduating soon," explained Hermione, "and then you're going to have to find jobs. Failing your Potions NEWTs isn't going to help you out with that, so I've decided to help you two buckle down and actually start putting some effort into the work you do for Potions. Starting with brewing potions during class, since you'll have to make at least one potion for your NEWTs."

"That's a good goal, Hermione," said Ron. "But I'm not sure the best way to achieve it is-"

"Actually, this is the only way that might actually work. I've spent most of my time at Hogwarts trying just about everything else I can think of to get you two to be more studious, and if having Snape breathing down your neck all class is the only way to achieve this, then so be it."

"Harry, mate, help me out here. Do you really think spending around 2 hours this close to Snape is good for us? And, besides, all the Slytherins always sit up front- you know Malfoy and his crew won't leave us alone all class if we sit there." Hermione watched Harry mull this last piece of information over and had to bite the insides of her cheeks, hard, to keep from grinning when she saw his eyes light up. He strode purposefully up the aisle dividing the classroom in half and began to unpack his supplies on the table in front of an aisle seat in the front row.

"You know," he said, turning his head over his shoulder to address Ron, "I think Hermione has a point."

When he failed to elaborate, Hermione realized that Harry hadn't prepared his cover story beyond this point and quickly jumped to his rescue. "Of course I do, and I'm glad you've finally come round, Harry. Especially since you still want to be an auror, right?" Harry nodded, so she continued, joining Harry at the front of the classroom. "Obviously, having squared off against Voldermort a few times is going to work in your favor when you apply for a job, but they'll still want to know you have a good knowledge of Potions. Being able to recognize when a colleague or victim is under the influence of a potion, and if so, which potion, is an invaluable skill in that profession. And, of course, you'll have to check everything you eat and drink for the presence of malicious potions…" Hermione trailed off, noticing Ron still hadn't joined them. He still looked shocked that Harry had sided with Hermione. "I thought you wanted to an auror, too, Ron."

His expression transformed from one of shock and betrayal to one of indignation as his eyes moved from Harry to Hermione. "I do, but-"

"Well, I've just enumerated the uses of a solid knowledge of Potions to an auror. Morever, if you plan to apply for a job in which you'll be tracking down dangerous and malicious dark wizards, but you can't face the prospect of sitting a bit closer to Snape for one class, you may want to rethink your career choice." Ron glared at her, but trudged towards the front of the classroom, muttering darkly about where Hermione got off differentiating between Snape and dangerous and malicious dark wizards.

While they had been debating over where to sit, most of the class had filed in. However, Malfoy, flanked by Blaise Zambini and Pansy Parkinson, was only making his entrance now. He spied Harry immediately and made a bee-line for the seat across the aisle from Harry's. "What's this, Potter?" he drawled. "Is being the Chosen One and the darling of Gryffindor not enough for you these days? Thought you'd put yourself in the running for the king of Potions, as well? I hate to disappoint you, but the position's already taken."

"I've heard that when the current king isn't up to snuff, the people have the right to revolt and choose a new one." replied Harry easily, smiling. Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes at Ron, knowing the two would keep this up the whole class if no one intervened. Bickering was still the chief form of interaction between Harry and Draco; however, Hermione had noticed that lately, it was more like sparring than a fight to the death. Of course, both still went at it with all they had, but sensitive topics, like the heritage or socio-economic status of Harry's friends and Draco's father's checkered past, were carefully avoided.

"By 'the people,' do you mean your fellow Gryffindors or the students who possess the ability to make decisions based on facts and logic instead of emotions?"

"Both. Although, personally, I'd rather be too often ruled by my emotions than unable to feel anything at all." Draco didn't reply immediately, creating a pause in the spitfire. At that moment, Professor Snape strode into the classroom, slamming the door behind him with a flick of his wand.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: You know the drill: all J.K.R.'s, not mine.

**Author's Notes:** Again, sorry for the major hiatus. I can't promise the gap between now and future chapters will be shorter, but I will try to post two chapters at a time each time. Reviews are loved – thanks to those who have been writing them and/or adding this story to their alerts or favorites!

One look at Professor Snape told students that anyone who had the audacity to look happy in his presence today would be earning themselves a detention. Reaching the front of the classroom, he turned sharply, and facing the classroom, fixed his students with his trademark glare. "Today you, or rather, the small proportion of you who possess enough skill in the art of potion-making to actually belong in this classroom, will be brewing another antidote. Whereas most of the potions you will be required to learn for your NEWTS are Ministry-mandated rubish, this antidote serves to revive its drinker from the effects of one of the most dangerous potions known to man, pessum vulnerego. Mister Potter, as I believe it is your ambition to be an auror, could you relate the effects of this dangerous potion to your classmates? Miss Granger, put your hand down; I believe I addressed the question to Mister Potter."

"I cannot, sir," Harry ground out.

"Mister Malfoy, perhaps you could enlighten Mr. Potter?"

Draco smirked at Harry. "Pessum vulernerego is essentially the oposite of felix felicis. The latter allows its user to succeed in all their endeavors by creating a sense of infallibility, by giving them what is essentially a huge boost to their self-esteem. The former effectively destroys its victim's self esteem, thereby crippling there ability to accomplish anything of import until the potion's effects wear off."

Hermione found the potion simple enough to create, and therefore devoted her attention to appearing in Snape's line of vision as much as possible and trying to make sure that Ron did not completely ruin his potion. Harry, she was happy to see, seemed intent on brewing a flawless antidote. Both he and Draco were bent over their cauldron's with a look of intense concentration; evidently, the exchange before class, compounded by Snape's comments had spurred an unspoken brewing competition.

Ron's enthusiasm for brewing was a different story entirely. Hermione had her hands full making sure Ron didn't botch nearly every step of the process, casting a stasis charm on her own potion each time she turned to check on his, and then deactivating said charms to add her next ingredient or to allow her potion to mature. At first she was furious at Ron for requiring all the attention that she had planned to devote elsewhere. However, she quickly realized that tending to two potions allowed her to be moving twice as much, and attract that much more attention.

A less observant witch might have thought her efforts had been in vain; Professor Snape's features did not seem to depart from the angry expression he had entered class with. But Hermione noticed his eyes widen almost imperceptibly the first time he realized that her ring was a snake, and the first time he saw it slither around her ring finger. Hermione also noticed that, although his eyes swept the classroom, looking for any excuses to dock points or assign detention, his gaze always gravitated back to her. At first she wasn't sure if she was imagining it; she hadn't caught him looking at her once, but each time she turned her attention to something else - an ingredient, a charm, Ron's latest mistake - she felt his eyes on her. When she finished her antidote halfway through the class she made up her mind to catch Snape at it. Ron's potion wasn't quite done, but it just needed to simmer unperturbed for the next fifteen minutes and then it would be. Hermione cast a protective spell over it, one which would repel Ron's hand if he somehow got it into his head that he ought to do anything else to it. She then turned to Ron and asked him a question about quidditch. She was careful to keep her eyes on Ron's face as he launched into an enthusiastic monologue. Within seconds, she felt Professor Snape's eyes on her. She mentally counted to twenty, then snapped her head around so that she was staring straight at Professor Snape. She found him staring straight back at her. He almost looked startled. She smiled at him victoriously before Ron commanded her attention again by screaming. In the midst of gesticulating, his hand had come too close to the jurisdiction of the protective charm; Hermione could see a small red mark on the side of his hand. "Bloody hell, 'Mione, what was that?"

"I didn't want you touching your potion before it was complete and wasting all the hard work I put into it." She smiled at him. "Sorry," she added as an afterthought. I didn't realize the charm would be activated by a disturbance in the air that far above the cauldron..." She looked up to see that Ron's eyes had all but glazed over, probably right after "the charm."

Ron soon returned to his quidditch monologue; while Hermione looked at him as he spoke, she let her mind wander, namely to the possibly reasons behind a certain Potion Master's recent behavior.

At the end of the class, she pocketed a few extra vials of her antidote- some of her musings during the second half of the class had left her wondering whether the antidote for pessum vulnerego would be able to even partially repair a witch or wizards self-esteem, were it damaged by means other than a pessum vulnerego potion. Hermione then made her way to the end of the line to hand in a vial of her antidote.

By the time she reached Professor Snape, she was the only student left in the classroom; even the Slytherins weren't foolish enough to stick around after class ended and risk angering the Potion Master while he was contemplating the grades for their antidotes. She handed him the vial, brushing her fingers gently against his as she did so. "Sir, if I may, I think that drinking a few vials of this might help you better understand the events of this past evening. I can find no other reason why a man as intelligent as yourself could have such difficulty comprehending the fact that I love you." Snape dropped the vial. It plummeted to the floor where it landed with the sharp sound of breaking glass, only slightly softened by the noise of liquid splashing onto the stone. Hermione set another vial of her antidote on Professor Snape's desk and then turned and walked out of his classroom without another word, leaving him to an empty dungeon and a silence only broken by quick footsteps on flagstone.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill: all J.K.R.'s, not mine.

**Author's Notes:** I'm terribly sorry I've been so slow with updating this story. A big thanks to everyone who's been reading/reviewing anyway!

Well, that hadn't exactly been part of the plan, Hermione thought to herself. But she'd just have to go with it. Potions was her last class, so she was left with the rest of the day to carry out the remaining steps of her plan; namely, a bit more transfiguration and studying and a lot of reading up on Occlumency.

Hermione paused for a few moments in front of the mirror in her room to admire her handiwork. Her school robes and uniform had been swapped for an emerald green tank top edged with lace (a garment which had originally been Gryffindor red) and a well-worn pair of skinny jeans. The ring was no longer on her finger, replaced by a silver necklace in the shape of a snake, its tail curving to the middle of her neck and its head draped across her collarbone.

8:55 found her just outside the door to the Potions classroom. She rapped sharply, then waited a whole minute for a response that didn't come. "Sir?" She enquired of the door, wondering if Snape was even there. She pressed closer to the door so her words would carry and tried again. "I was under the impression that I had a detention to serve tonight, but if, after this afternoon's events, you've lost your nerve..."

A livid Snape opened the door so quickly Hermione nearly fell into the room. "Miss Granger, I am your professor for another month yet, and you would do well to remember it."

"Of course, sir," Hermione replied, not missing the way his eyes widened as he took in her appearance. She made her way into the classroom and then turned to face Snape.

Snape closed the door with a little more force than was strictly necessary and turned to face her as well, scowling. "I can only hope that you will be more successful in your attempts this evening than you were yesterday." Oh, you have no idea, Hermione thought to herself. She was certain she was smirking as she met Snape's eyes.

"Legilimens."

The room quickly began fading from view and it occurred to Hermione that she really should have been spending the few seconds before their eyes met emptying her mind of emotions, not gloating. She could see dark, swirling colors and hear indistinct voices, signs that she was close to letting a memory surface involuntarily. Hermione took a deep breath and focused on filling her mind with nothingness, just as she had practiced earlier that day. After a few seconds, everything went dark.

Then, suddenly, Hermione saw an amorphous, wispy dark green cloud of smoke emerge at the edge of the darkness. It swirled and writhed like a living thing and was approaching quickly. She reached out to it with her mind, soon feeling a tendril of her consciousness connect with the swirling mass. At that point, it would have been easy to toss the cloud, and thus Snape, out of her thoughts, but that was not what Hermione had in mind.

She pulled the cloud down, down, until the darkness began dissolving into colors, and then finally, the colors coalesced into a memory. She was lying on her bed studying Potions. She was tranfiguring a simple silver necklace into the serpent one she now wore, and then admiring it in the mirror. She was pushing Snape onto the grass and then reclaiming his mouth as she followed him down. As she watched this memory, she could feel the cloud trying to pull away from her mind, but she held tight to it. She wasn't quite finished with Snape yet.

She was kissing Snape in the Potions classroom as he pinned her against a wall. She was telling him she loved him and leaving him speechless in his classroom. She finally released the cloud and waited for proper vision and hearing to return. When they did, she noted with satisfaction that Snape looked neither angry nor stoic. In fact, he looked a bit flushed and out of breath.

Snape quickly schooled his features into a scowl. "Miss Granger, I believe that the object of these lessons is for you to acquire the ability to properly occlude your mind, not to drag a Legilimens through it against their will. As you well know, accomplishing the latter is considerably more difficult, ergo it was not lack of skill that prevented you from performing the assigned task. Would you care to explain why you still failed to do as you were instructed?"

"Well, yes, I believe an explanation is in order. There's a point that I've been trying to get across to you for the better part of two days, but, as I now believe, your low self-esteem has prevented you from understanding. Namely, that I'm in love with you. Apparently telling you so, as I attempted this afternoon, was not sufficient, so I thought showing you might be more effective. Judging by your previous question, however, you either still do not understand me, in which case you are much denser than I originally estimated, or you are deliberately trying to misunderstand me."

"Miss Granger," Snape ground out, "You make yourself very clear. However, this is entirely inappropriate-"

"Is that what you've been trying to convince yourself of these past few days? From what I observed of your behavior, it doesn't seem like you met with much success in doing so. It doesn't take a masterspy to figure out that you reciprocate my feelings for you."

"Whether or not I reciprocate your feelings has no bearing on the appropriateness of the situation!" Snape replied angrily. Hermione watched with interest as the realization of his fatal mistake dawned on him.

"So you're not denying that you reciprocate my feelings for you?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill – all J.K.R.'s, not mine.

**Author's notes:** I never intended for it to take this long for this chapter to get finished. Mostly, this ended up being the case because I was torn between writing it the way I had originally planned – which would have set the stage for several more chapters – and writing it in a way that would tie up the story more conclusively. I finally decided on the second option because I don't have time to make this into a longer story. Apologies for cutting it shorter than I originally planned to, and for the ungodly long wait.

There were a few moments of silence as Hermione waited for a snarky retort that did not come. Absolutely no one will believe me when I tell them I rendered Severus Snape speechless, she mused. She waited for a few more seconds before deciding it was time for her to take control of the situation once again.

"Well, let's see," she began, adopting a pedantic tone of voice. "You and I both know that I have mastered Occlumency. Yet here I am with three more detentions to serve with you this week. I could spend the time scrubbing cauldrons…" She moved so that she was behind Snape, close enough that she was practically touching him, and stood on her tiptoes to whisper the few remaining words in his ear. "But surely a man of your intelligence will realize that devoting three whole evenings during which you may command me as you will to the maintenance of cauldrons would be a terrible waste."

Hermione's lips had not yet had time to fully form a smirk before they were claimed by Snape's.

"We do? That's nice."

"No 'Mione," Ron said, "that's not nice. That's bad. Gonna be bloody awful, actually—"

"I'm sorry. What?"

"We have double Potions with the Slytherins today. We just had Potions with them! You'd think somebody would've realized that putting a bunch of Gryffindors, Slytherins, and Snape together for that long is asking for it, but—"

"Are you sure you're ok, Hermione?" Harry interrupted. "You've had this sort of dreamy smile since you came down to breakfast and you haven't paid attention to a word Ron and I have said. I can tell because you haven't even argued with him about anything."

"Oh, well I…" She hadn't realized she was being so obvious about it. If she kept on like this, someone was going to accuse her of being well-shagged or something.

"She's gone 'round the bend, is what," Ron supplied. "I reckon it was bound to happen sometime. All the time she spends studying, it just isn't healthy—"

"I'm just in a good mood, is all. I'm now proficient in the art of Occlumency."

"So? Yesterday I learned how to make a new potion – so I reckon I'm now proficient at that—and you don't see me going around grinning like I've gone mental—"

"First of all, Ron, you're hardly proficient at brewing an antidote to pessum vulnerego—the only reason you managed to make an acceptable draft of it yesterday is that I was there to prevent you from botching each and every step—and secondly, mastering Occlumency is a big deal. It means I will be able to stop dreamwalking, preventing the possibility of unwittingly causing harm to myself and others while I sleep, and frustrating any designs Voldemort might have had for using my condition for his own purposes. Besides which it means I will no longer have Snape snooping about in my most private thoughts and memories."

"All right, all right, I reckon I'd be happy, too."

"You know who else looks happy? Or at least a little less than murderous?" asked Harry.

"Who?"

"Snape."

"Snape looks happy?" Ron turned around in his seat to look at the professor. "God, you're right. I think I can honestly say that's one of the most disturbing things I've ever seen, and I've seen some pretty weird stuff, what with hanging around with you lot."


End file.
